


Matters of a Sizeable Proportion

by bubblewrapstargirl



Series: Archive of My Older Fics [3]
Category: British Singers RPF, McFly, Night at the Museum (2006 2009)
Genre: M/M, Magic, Shrinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 09:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1261687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblewrapstargirl/pseuds/bubblewrapstargirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a little toy; a little plastic person. A little plastic person that is moving, clambering to its feet on Tom’s open palm.</p><p>---<br/>(originally posted on LJ in 2009)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

After they’ve completed the shoot for the video of Friday Night, the guys and their managers gather together in the hotel lobby.

“Right lads, let’s get this over and done with shall we?” Says Fletch, leading them into the bus – they’re back off to the museum for a VIP tour.

Fletch already gave them a forty minute lecture on what would happen to them if they put one toe out of line; Danny thinks castration was mentioned, but he can’t be sure - he had zoned out pretty quickly.

They tumble off the bus and inside to meet their tour guide and the other VIP guests; they’re going to have the museum to themselves. There’s no one else ‘famous’ here - Danny reckons the others must just be rich people.

As they wander through the displays, Danny’s suitably impressed, although he doesn’t take much of the information in. It’s nice to look at though. Nothing really excites him until they enter the ancient civilisations room.

The moment he sees it, Danny is drawn towards the stone. It’s as though he’s suddenly been plunged underwater, and it’s all he can focus on.

They’re given a little talk about it, and the Guide witters on about Aztecs and rituals and malachite, but Danny can’t hear over the thump of his heartbeat. He feels dizzy and sick, but at the same time enthralled.

Mesmerised, he doesn’t even notice when the rest of their tour group begins to walk away. He steps right up to the red rope, captivated by the sparkling stone as the sunlight dances across it.

Someone’s calling him, but it’s although he’s been removed from his body – he can only stare helplessly as his hand reaches for the stone slab, fingers just barely brushing it…

***

It’s Tom’s scream that has Harry and Dougie rushing back into the room. He’s frozen, staring at something, but neither can fathom what. Nothing seems out of place - the room silent and the displays untouched.

Harry frowns. He knows what’s wrong with this picture. “Tom, where’s Danny?”

The blonde shakes his head, backing away from the Aztec section in horror.

A clatter distracts them all. There on the floor is Danny’s VIP tag - it must have fallen off. But that doesn’t explain why it’s moving.

It shuffles along the floor, and then flips over. There’s something underneath it, a bug of some kind, wriggling with the effort of escaping from under the little plastic tag.

Harry and Dougie can only blink in surprise as Tom’s face visibly relaxes, although he still looks a little scared. He steps forward and kneels down to pick the bug up, scooping it into his hand.

As he straightens up, Harry can tell that it isn’t a bug after all, it’s much too big. It’s a little toy; a little plastic person. A little plastic person that is moving, clambering to its feet on Tom’s open palm.

Harry and Dougie shuffle forwards in awe, congregating around Tom. Danny waves at them from his position in Tom’s hand.

***

Fletch storms back into the room, a black scowl darkening his features. “What the hell are you doing?” he hisses. “And where’s Danny?” he adds as an after-thought.

Tom uses his other hand to point to the miniature man. Fletch pauses, and then stalks over to them.

"Bloody hell.” He whispers and Danny grins. He’s about five centimetres tall, and perfectly proportioned. All of his clothes have shrunk with him; but unfortunately so has his voice, so when he talks it’s only a little squeaky hum to them.

“How?” asks Fletch, and they can only shake their heads.

Danny points at the Aztec display. Tom walks back over to the stone Danny was so interested in, leaning over the red rope and stretching out his palm so that the little man can step onto the display unit.

Danny touches the stone with his hand. Then with his other hand. Then with both. Then he presses himself to it. He even tries licking it, but nothing works; he’s trapped in his new tiny body. He slumps, disheartened.

“We should go. We can always come back, but we can’t just wander off when it’s closed like this.” Fletch says, and continues before they can protest; “We can come back every day, until he gets big again, okay? But we can’t stay here right now.”

Reluctantly they agree; Tom reaches for Danny again, but the diminutive brunette squeaks indignantly, hopping to his feet and rushing to the stone, clinging on.

"I’m sorry Dan,” Tom says, plucking him up by the back of his jacket. Danny wriggles wildly, kicking out his feet and yelling shrilly, but Tom simply drops him into his shirt pocket. (It’s a good thing he decided to wear this one today, not many of his tops have pockets).

Danny’s head pops out again a moment later. He looks thoroughly miserable.

***

Danny’s bad mood lasts until they pile back onto their bus. He seems to resign himself to the fact that he has to stay this way for a while; and it’s not the guy’s fault he touched the stone after all, he shouldn’t take it out on them.

They clamber into the seating area at the back of the bus, and Tom gently lifts Danny out of his pocket and sets him on the table.

The bus gives a lurch as they set off and it’s enough to knock Danny off his feet and onto his bum. From somewhere miles above him Dougie snickers.

“Are you alright?” Tom asks softly, leaning closer. Danny blushes, nodding vigorously.

He scrambles to his feet again. He suddenly feels very hungry. Tom’s still looking at him, so he points to his stomach imploringly.

Tom looks thoughtful for a moment, and then leans over Dougie to get something from further down the table. He sits back and presents Danny with a gigantic grape.

Taking it gingerly with both hands, Danny sits back down and begins to feast. He doesn’t think a grape has ever tasted so good. The juice gets everywhere though; all over his hands and face. He grins up at Tom with a sticky smile and the blonde laughs.

When he’s finished he can’t suppress a yawn. Being little is exhausting.

The lads are chattering far up above him, but he can’t make out the words unless they talk slowly, so he doesn’t bother trying. It’s not as if he can join in anyway, they can’t seem to understand him when he speaks. He wonders what it sounds like to them.

He curls up on his side, letting their conversation wash over him. Before long he’s fast asleep.

“Aww, look.” Harry nods to where Danny’s sleeping, tucked in on himself, one hand underneath his head.

Tom can’t resist reaching over and giving him a little stroke, thumb running slowly down Danny’s back. “He’s so small. What if he stays like this forever?”

Dougie shakes his head, hair flopping from side to side. “He won’t.”

Tom says nothing, he just picks the tiny brunette up again, sliding him back into his pocket. They’re almost home.

***

When Danny wakes up again, it takes him a while to work out he’s on top of a fridge. Someone’s folded a tea towel around him as a makeshift sleeping bag, and he pushes it off slowly, stretching his arms high above his head. Oh, that’s better.

The kitchen is full of the smell of something wonderful, but there’s no one around. Crawling to the edge of the fridge, he stares down before recoiling in fright. Fuck, that’s high.

He shuffles back to his tea towel to wait for someone to come and check on the food. Glancing around, bored, something behind him catches his eye.

He turns his head and freezes in terror. There’s an enormous spider at the other side of the fridge, steadily crawling towards him. It’s like something out of a nightmare; huge and hairy.

For a moment, Danny can do nothing but stare, petrified. He’s going to die. He’s going to get eaten, by a massive fucking spider.

Then he finds his throat unfreezing and he’s screaming, as loud as he possibly can, for one of the guys to get in here and fucking save him already, but it’s obviously not loud enough, because no one comes.

Danny sprints as far away from the eight legged monster as he can, still yelling. Oh god, oh god. It’s not going to work – he needs to make more noise.

There’s a pen to his left, and he drags it into his arms and flings it over the edge of the fridge and onto the floor, where it lands with a clatter. He screams in frustration this time.

He looks around desperately for something bigger, but there are only few papers… and a cup! He runs towards it, grabbing the handle and attempting to drag it to the edge.

He recognises it – it’s Tom’s paperclip cup. Panting with effort, he manages to get it a little closer to the edge, but the spider isn’t so very far away now.

He can’t die like this. Terror gives him a burst of adrenaline and he drags the cup to the edge, running round to the other side of it, shoving it over as hard as he can.

It smashes on the floor with a satisfying crash. That’s more like it!

His happiness is short-lived. The spider is getting so close…

But then someone’s ripping him off the fridge, and out of harm’s way. Danny doesn’t even feel that relieved; he’s shivering in terror. He collapses in the palm of whoever’s holding him and bursts into tears.

It’s Harry whose got hold of him; the scruffy haired drummer blinks down at him in surprise. Danny feels like an animal in a zoo, and it makes him cry harder. He wants Tom.

Harry moves back slightly, and says something Danny can’t make out. He scrubs at his face in shame as Dougie and Tom’s faces appear above him too. Thankfully, no one’s laughing at him.

He staggers to his feet and tries to think of a way to signal to Harry that he wants to be given to Tom. It’s always Tom that takes care of them whenever they’re sick or upset. Eventually he settles on just pointing at the blonde.

Harry stares at the minute guitarist in his hand in confusion. Danny obviously wants something from Tom. But what? Danny screeches at him, stamping his little foot and pointing at Tom more forcefully this time.

“Er…” mumbles Harry, glancing at Tom, who looks equally puzzled, but holds out his hand next to Harry’s own. Danny seems happy with that, tottering onto the blonde’s palm.

Tom raises him a little higher and says; “I’m so sorry, Dans.”

Danny flops to a seated position before rolling over and snuggling into his hand. Tom takes that as an apology accepted.


	2. Chapter 2

Tom resolves to take Danny everywhere with him from now on, in his hand or pocket. He feels terrible, but thankfully Danny doesn’t seem too traumatised by his recent brush with death.

There isn’t exactly a set etiquette for this sort of situation, but on reflection, it was very stupid idea to leave Danny all on his own. He doesn’t even want to think about what could have happened if he hadn’t have left that cup on top of the fridge.

When the dinner’s ready, he gets three regular sided plates, and one of his rarely used saucers out for Danny. He sets them on the table, and lets Harry serve the food, taking his seat and lifting Danny out of his pocket and onto the table in front of the little plate.

It’s still massive compared to Danny, but it’s the best he can do. They’re having pasta for dinner - Tom gives him a few pieces of his fusili that have been dipped in the sauce. Danny’s only a little bit bigger than the pasta, but he doesn’t seem fazed, he just climbs onto the plate, sitting cross-legged, and munches away happily.

Tom’s about halfway done when Danny finishes his. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes closed, smacking his lips in satisfaction. Tom gives him a gentle brush with his finger to get his attention.

“Do you want some more?” He asks, and Danny shakes his head, but then motions with his hand that he’d like a drink.

Tom considers for a moment, putting down his knife and fork. He taps his chin thoughtfully for a short while, before pushing back his chair.

He feels three pairs of following eyes on him, as he tugs his Monopoly set down from his shelves, placing it on the floor and rooting through it until he emerges triumphantly with the thimble.

Tom dips it in his own glass of orange juice before passing it over, careful to hold it steady. Danny accepts it gratefully, holding on tightly with both hands.

Tom knows how heavy it must be and is reluctant to let go of the little piece of metal, but Danny’s pretty strong and doesn’t seem to struggle with it, settling it down in the space flanked by his legs.

Tom resists the urge to stroke him again, just for looking so adorable.

***

Dougie and Harry offer to do the washing up, so Tom lets them. Danny’s safe in his pocket and looking sleepy, so Tom begins to collect things; a clean sponge from under the sink, a shoebox, a cloth for cleaning glasses, the soap dish and the lid from the toothpaste.

When he’s gathered everything together in the shoebox, he heads to his living room, sinking into the sofa. He gently places the box on his coffee table, and a moment later Danny too.

The little brunette gives him a tired smile, one which Tom can’t help but return, even if he is worried that Danny could stay like this forever.

"These things are for you, okay?” Tom says, quiet and slow so Danny can understand. He picks him up and places him on the sponge, then hands him the cloth for cleaning his glasses. “This is for a bed, and this is your blanket.”

Danny bounces on the sponge a few times before wrapping the cloth around him, revelling in its softness.

“This-” he picks out the soap dish and places it next to the sponge, “is for if you want a bath. And this-” he holds out the toothpaste lid, “is for brushing your teeth. You’ll have to use your finger, but there’s some paste left in it see? I’ll take you into the bathroom and stay with you when you do that stuff okay? I won’t leave you alone again, I promise.”

Danny smiles, always forgiving, but guilt is still gnawing away at Tom’s insides.

Danny attempts to say thank you, but he isn’t sure Tom understands him. He hopes his smile says enough. He bounces on the sponge again, chuckling softly to himself. He can’t deny that he’s not still shaken from earlier, but he feels a lot safer with Tom around.

Danny’s soon fast asleep on his little makeshift bed, soft blanket covering all but his face and one tiny arm. Tom scoops up the entire bundle and tenderly sets it down in the shoebox.

He says goodnight to Dougie and Harry, before making his way upstairs. He sets down the box on his bedside cabinet, sinks onto his bed and takes advantage of this situation by just watching Danny doze for a while. If he concentrates hard enough he can see his tiny little chest rise and fall.

***

Tom wakes Danny up with a gentle stroke so as not to frighten the tiny guitarist. He needs to brush his teeth before Tom will let him go to sleep for the night – he can’t let standards of dental health slip just because he’s been shrunk.

He’s already prepared for bed, so as soon as Danny’s done, he heads back into his room. He goes to put Danny back on his sponge but the mini guitarist squeaks, clutching onto his thumb. Knackered, Tom reclines back on his own bed, placing Danny beside him on his covers instead.

“You can’t sleep here you know.” He insists as best he can around a yawn. “I might roll on you or something.”

Danny squeals in response, tugging on the short sleeve of Tom’s t-shirt.

“Hmm?” he enquires. Danny points at Tom’s chest. Tom can only raise an eyebrow. What does he want?

“Lift me up there!” Danny yells, but Tom just looks confused. He attempts to pull himself onto Tom’s shoulder, but it’s far too steep. But then Tom’s picking him up again anyway so it’s alright.

“What’s the matter?” Tom asks quietly, and Danny shakes his head, because he hasn’t got a problem, he just wants a hug, that’s all. Is that too much to ask?

Tom’s hand is hovering over his chest now, and Danny calculates the distance quickly – it’s shouldn’t be too high. He takes a little leap and lands on Tom’s upper body with an ‘Oof’.

Blinking in surprise, Tom watches as Danny shuffles forwards slightly, before diving forwards so he can lie, face down, over the space where his star tattoo would be if he were shirtless. Danny’s little arms stretch out and cling, face nuzzling slightly into Tom’s chest.

Tom’s arm is still hanging in the air; so he carefully lowers it to rest on top of his best friend’s little frame. Danny’s body is warm and soft under his hand; in all honesty he feels like he’s holding a gerbil, or some other cute rodent, to his chest.

The excitement of the day must really be getting to him, because Danny’s out like a light when ever he sets his head down. Tom on the other hand is wide awake again, now that the man he’s secretly been pining for is using him as a bed.

Of all the luck in the world. Tom couldn’t trust anyone else to take care of Danny whilst he’s in such a vulnerable state, but at the same time, he’s been trying to distance himself from the brunette lately, precisely for the reason that he’s started to find it harder and harder to not just do something silly, like snog Danny’s face off.

And now he’s stuck with Danny sleeping on him. In miniature form. Bloody marvellous.

“You have no idea how much trouble you cause, do you?” Tom asks the slumbering brunette.

Danny stays still. Tom has been acting a little off for the past couple of weeks. This could be a brilliant opportunity to find out why, but only if Tom thinks he’s asleep. They all know that Tom likes to offload.

But the blonde says nothing more. Tom’s thinking so loudly Danny can almost hear him, but not quite.

Tom’s been stroking his back with his thumb, but the just as Danny’s about to succumb to the pleasant sensation and nod off, Tom decides to talk.

“I love you, Danny.” He sighs, and Danny smiles sadly to himself, because of course he does. Who doesn’t love him? He’s adorable. But he doesn’t know how much Danny wants those words to mean something else entirely.

“And you’ll never know how much.” Tom continues, and oh my god, does that mean what he thinks it does?

“I’m such an idiot. Of all the people I could have fallen for, it had to be you didn’t it?” Tom scoffs, sounding pretty pissed off with himself. “And it’s SUCH a cliché. I mean, falling for your very straight best friend? I have the worst luck in the world…”

Tom sighs again, chest rising and falling underneath Danny, whose trying very hard not to jump up and down and scream for sheer joy. Tom loves him! Tom! Dorky, motherly, _perfect_ Tom is in love with him.

Danny and Tom remain still for a while longer, one melancholy and the other euphoric.

“Don’t be sad, Tom. I love you too, you silly eejit.” Danny whispers…

***

Tom can only gape up at the very full size Danny who is currently straddling him, legs on either side of his hips and hands pressing into the pillow by Tom’s head.

Before either of them can say a word, their attention is drawn to the door by a very human squeak.

“Um… I’m just gonna- go...?” Dougie mutters, blushing bright red before scurrying away.

Danny seems to think this is hilarious, snorting with laughter, but Tom looks positively mortified.

“Get off me, you great oaf!” Tom growls, giving him a shove.

“Didn’t you see his face? Come on, that was funny!”

“No it wasn’t. Now get off me so I can go and talk to him-”

Danny shakes his head. “Not yet. You gotta listen to me first.”

Tom sighs. Sometimes there’s no getting through to Danny, and from his tone of voice he knows he won’t be going anywhere till Danny’s got something off his chest. So he waits, nodding his head slightly so Danny knows he has permission to continue. Sometimes they don’t need words.

“Tom…” he trails off before even beginning. Tom can feel his eyebrows rise involuntarily.

“Yes?”

Danny shakes his head. Instead of trying to talk, he leans forwards, drifting a breath above Tom, whose eyes have widened in surprise, and suddenly it’s so much easier.

“I love you too.” He finds himself whispering, but anything else he may have said is swallowed as their lips meet.

“You had better not be messing with me.” Tom pants as they part, and Danny shakes his head, curls bouncing from side to side.

And then they don’t need words anymore, because smiles and kisses are enough; Danny can’t help but giggle. It _would_ take something like being shrunk by Aztec magic to get them together - but no matter; they’ve made it here and that’s what counts.


End file.
